547. Verses to Collector Mitchell

FRIEND of the Poet, tried and leal,
Wha, wanting thee, might beg or steal;
Alake, alake, the meikle deil
WiвЂ™ aвЂ™ his witches
Are at it skelpin jig and reel,
In my poor pouches?

I modestly fuвЂ™ fain wad hint it,
That One-pound-one, I sairly want it;
If wiвЂ™ the hizzie down ye sent it,
It would be kind;
And while my heart wiвЂ™ life-blood dunted,
IвЂ™d bearвЂ™t in mind.

So may the Auld year gang out moaninвЂ™
To see the New come laden, groaninвЂ™,
WiвЂ™ double plenty oвЂ™er the loaninвЂ™,
To thee and thine:
Domestic peace and comforts crowninвЂ™
The hale design.

POSTSCRIPTYeвЂ™ve heard this while how IвЂ™ve been lickit,
And by fell Death was nearly nickit;
Grim loon! he got me by the fecket,
And sair me sheuk;
But by gude luck I lap a wicket,
And turnвЂ™d a neuk.

But by that health, IвЂ™ve got a share oвЂ™t,
But by that life, IвЂ™m promisвЂ™d mair oвЂ™t,
My hale and wee, IвЂ™ll tak a care oвЂ™t,
A tentier way;
Then farewell folly, hide and hair oвЂ™t,
For ance and aye!

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